By Sorbus
“I think it’s time we chatted about those consequences you’ve wracked up,” Sir’s voice shook me from my post-sex haze. Or rather post-blow job that has me just as horny after swallowing his load as I was before. . . could it be called post-sex if I didn’t actually get to get off?
“Consequences, Sir?” I shook my head, blinking in confusion. “What, uhm, what consequences are those? What did I do wrong, Sir?”
“Oh, boy, that was the wrong response!” Sir leaned forward, grabbing the loops of rope wrapped around my neck. It was a firm grip, not a strangle- it didn’t need to be painful to get his message across. Any lingering thoughts that might be lurking in the depths of my mind, ones that still might question this situation, my place, his dominance, were wiped out. His hand holding that rope combined with the look in his eyes pinned me in place, and yep. . . I was screwed! And not in a good way. . .
